


New Model

by sabinelagrande



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Everybody Likes Not Liking Ward, F/M, Is It Verbal Humiliation If The Person's Not There?, No One Likes Ward, Past Melinda May/Grant Ward, Schadenfreude, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 09:14:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2423294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It should be great, but Phil has unfortunate things on his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Model

This really should be an ideal situation.

He did _not_ send the team out so that he could get laid. He _emphatically_ did not. It's just that the team is out right now, on a mission that- god willing- shouldn't be difficult. It's a glorified supply run, two notches above sending them out for Post-It notes; he's perfectly aware that not everybody needed to go, but sometimes you just need to give people a chance to slack off.

And even so, he wasn't planning on doing it himself; he had paperwork to go over, because there was _always_ paperwork. He didn't even know where the paperwork came from, because he was pretty sure he was the one who was supposed to be deciding if there was paperwork or not. Either way, it was there, so he sat down at his desk, intending to get things done.

He'd barely gotten settled in before Melinda knocked on his open door. "You need to learn to delegate a little better, Director," she said, and Phil's eyebrows went up.

And ten minutes later, she ripped his clothes off and pushed him down on her bed.

So yeah, this should be awesome, and it is. It's just that there's something he's been thinking about, despite himself, ever since he and Melinda finally gave up pretending there was nothing between them. He thought he had it under control, but-

"You're distracted," Melinda says, stopping. Phil is very suddenly aware that he has an annoyed woman on top of him, and this is not a woman he likes to annoy.

"What?" Phil says, and his forced shock gives him away instantly. "I'm not distracted." Melinda raises an eyebrow at him, and he gives her a sheepish look. "I was just thinking about something."

"You're thinking about something else while we're fucking," Melinda says, and she sounds deeply unamused.

"That's not exactly-" Phil stops, aware that he is in a very precarious position right now. "Do you ever think about Ward when we're having sex?" he blurts out.

Phil is prepared for a number of things, all of them bad. The forerunner in his mind is Melinda punching him in the face and walking out, but there are plenty of other scenarios, all of which are seeming more and more likely the longer she stares at him.

"Of course I do," Melinda says matter-of-factly.

That was not at all the answer he was expecting; now _Phil_ feels like walking out, though punching is not his style. "You do?" he asks, wondering why he opened up this incredibly stupid line of inquiry.

"He was the last person I had sex with before you," she says. "Why wouldn't I compare you?'

"Because I'm not a sociopath?" Phil says.

"You want to ask me about the results," Melinda says; she starts moving her hips again, which is interesting. "But you're afraid of what I'm going to say." 

Phil doesn't say anything, because she is, of course, completely right.

She puts her hands on his shoulders, leaning forward. "When I think about him, I think about how much better off I am," she tells him.

"Oh," he says, startled.

"You don't think so?" she says, but she sounds amused.

"No, I definitely agree with you," Phil says. "Though Ward didn't exactly set a high bar."

"He didn't," she tells him, rocking against him faster; Phil's dick started to lose interest during this whole ill-advised conversation, but it's certainly getting better. "I was wasting my time with him."

"Oh?" Phil says. He doesn't exactly want to grill her for information or anything, but something about this is doing it for him, weirdly. He doesn't really know what that says about him, but he's not sure whether he cares right now.

"Yeah," she says, bending down and kissing him. "For one, I had to convince him it was in his best interest to eat me out."

"And by that you mean he thought he was going to still get laid without doing what you wanted," he says.

"He didn't exactly understand how this kind of transaction works, no," Melinda says.

"For the record," Phil says, putting his hands on her hips, urging her on as she starts moving up and down on his cock. "I'll go down on you until the end of next week."

"I know you will," she says. "You love doing it. You won't stop until I make you."

"Nope," he says without shame. "If that's what you want, that's what you're gonna get. I'll do it now if that's what makes you happy."

"And that's how it should be," she says. "But for right now, I think I'm good."

"I certainly hope so," Phil says, thrusting up into her faster. He is considerably more focused than he was a couple minutes ago, but there's something else that's sort of gnawing at him. He tries not to think about it, paying attention to her instead, but it's only working so well.

Melinda raises an eyebrow at him, and he knows he's been caught. "You want to know whether his dick is bigger than yours," she says.

"I wasn't going to ask," he says quickly.

"You weren't going to ask because you knew I'd tell the truth," Melinda says.

"Well, obviously," Phil replies, because there's no point in lying.

"I traded up," she says, grinding down against him. "Even if I hadn't, you're still better with it."

"Yeah?" he prompts, pushing up into her. He's pretty much given up all hope of pretending he's not getting off on this, whatever it is.

"You know what you're doing," she says, and a smile is spreading over her face; granted, it's kind of a wicked-looking, vicious smile, but he's totally okay with that. "You don't make me have to tell you every little thing to do."

"You've never liked micromanaging," Phil says, sliding his hand down to where they meet and stroking his thumb over her clit.

"Mmm," Melinda says, spreading her legs a little wider, taking him in deeper. "I like it even less when I'm getting fucked. I don't have to tell you how to make me come. You just do it."

Phil gives her a look. "If he didn't make you come, he wasted your time."

"You're offended on my behalf," she says, amused.

"Of course I am," he tells her. He moves his hand faster, and she moans, shutting her eyes. "I love making you come. Who wouldn't?"

"Ignorant boys like Ward," she says. Up until now, he was pretty sure hearing Ward's name was the ultimate mood killer, but as it turns out, he just wasn't hearing it in the right way. The venom in Melinda's voice, the dark satisfaction of hearing her tear him down, the considerable ego boost from hearing about how much more she wants Phil than Ward- it is really, _really_ working for him.

"You deserve better than Ward," Phil says. "I'm going to make sure you get it."

All at once, she rolls them so she's on her back, Phil braced over her; she runs her hands up his arms, pulling him down and kissing him hard before she lets him go.

"I wouldn't even let him get on top," she says, hooking her legs around Phil's waist and dragging him towards her. "He didn't do a goddamn thing to earn the privilege."

"Fuck," Phil says, through clenched teeth. If she keeps saying shit like that, it's all going to be over sooner rather than later. He obviously can't let that happen; he's got a reputation to uphold here. He pushes into her deeper, harder, going willingly when she digs her fingernails into his back and pulls him down against her.

"He's scum," Melinda says, her lips close to his ear, and he moans into her shoulder, kissing and sucking on her skin. "Every second I was with him was time spent with the wrong person." She bites his earlobe, tugging on it before she lets it go. "Ward is a worthless fucktoy compared to you."

He groans, so close to the breaking point that he doesn't know how he's holding on, not sure he can do it any longer. "Fuck, Melinda, I'm gonna-"

"Yeah," she pants, and he can hear how much this is getting to her too, how much she wants it. "Come on, do it with me-"

She's pushing back against him, reaching for it, asking for more, and he moves faster, trying to give her exactly what she wants. He can feel it when she starts to come, her body clenching around him, and that's it, he's done. His orgasm slams into him, leaving him shaking, gasping; Melinda clutches him to her, not letting him go until they're both good and done.

It's nice, but eventually she pushes at his shoulder; he takes the hint, rolling off of her, lying down by her side. He's not quite sure what to say about what just happened, whether the best option is to just ignore what was said entirely.

"You do know how to make a guy feel appreciated," he says instead, because he figures it's the kind of thing that doesn't get ignored.

"If you weren't what I wanted, I'd get something else," she says plainly, which really is just like her.

He gives her a look. "If all that's true, then why did you fuck him in the first place?"

"He's athletic and has a nice body," Melinda says.

Phil shrugs; it's not something he really wants to hear, but it is what it is. "Well, he's twenty years younger than me-"

"I'm not finished," she says. "The main reason?" She pauses. "You weren't an option. With him I could always walk." She looks at him. "I wanted to be ready to walk."

Phil's not sure what to do with a statement like that one; he doesn't get a lot of them from Melinda. He pulls her over, kissing her, trying to let that be good enough. 

"Team won't be home for a while," Phil says, when they finally part.

"And?" Melinda says, slipping her knee in between Phil's.

"And I'm pretty sure I heard something about you being owed orgasms," he says. "Thought I could help out with that."

"Then get to work," Melinda says, grinding against his leg. "I don't have all day."


End file.
